Solitude Forgotten
by DeimosFire99
Summary: Sequel to "Please Come Back": Jamie's a talented writer... but he's also a mental patient in Saint Dymphna's Asylum, a result of Jack's departure. Will he stay in there forever or will a certain winter spirit have a say in it? WARNING: JamiexJack; there will be fluff... I'LL MAKE SURE OF THAT.
1. Genesis or Revelation?

**Hi guys! A few pointers when reading this fanfic:**

_**'...'**_**means that Jamie himself is thinking this**

_**...**_** (italicized dialogues) are the dialogues of the Voice**

**ENJOY!**

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**Chapter 1: Genesis or Revelation?**

**Jamie's POV**

The sky outside was slowly clearing up, revealing an endless blue… an endless void of blue that reminds me of—

—_his eyes…_

Pfft… I was going to say 'the open sea'. But his eyes work too. I sighed. Sometimes these voices don't realize that I am actually _trying_ to forget about that boy with the bright blue eyes and white hair; Jack Frost.

I watched as the sun slowly began to peek through the gray clouds, indicating the end of the downpour that soaked the front lawn of Saint Dymphna's Mental Asylum. I leaned forward, hands cupping my face, as the sunlight began to illuminate the wet grass, reflecting back tiny pearls of light.

"Beautiful isn't it?" a voice behind me sounded. I turned around, not entirely happy, though not entirely angry at the interruption; especially since the interrup_ter_ was actually Nurse Beatrice.

"I brought your lunch," she said.

"What is it?" I asked, facing her. She smiled sympathetically and I made a face. She laughed as she removed the cover with a flourish: sweet and sour chicken strips. Yum.

I laughed, "Nurse Bea, this is delicious. Thank you. Why was your smile sad?" I asked.

She winked, "A good joke needs to sell, Jamie. And you can't sell a good joke without feeling the joke itself." I chuckled.

"Nice line, Nurse Bea. I'll keep that in mind."

"Okay, Jamie. Now, eat up, your 30 minutes start now. I'll return for your plate at precisely 12:47." She said, and with that, she walked outside and closed the door.

I dug in, my hunger getting the best of me… but I suddenly stopped. I winced and I smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, God," I looked up. I put down my spoon and fork, clasped my hands together and prayed quickly. Then I dug in again.

Only 15 minutes have passed and I'm already finished. I returned to my desk, where I found my papers crumpled from my leaning forward just now. I sighed at my absent-mindedness.

I looked out the window; the voices began to whisper words to me as I stared at the now cloudless sky. I lazily grabbed a pencil and paper and wrote them down, all the while holding my gaze to the heavens. When I looked down, I wasn't surprised to see my handwriting to be flawless, my words straight and without erasures.

'_A poem?'_ I asked.

_We say what comes… _the voices said passively.

I vaguely wondered what comes to them, but as I read the poem their brains (do hallucinations _have_ brains?) concocted, I stopped that train of thought:

"_And there it is, the forlorn beauty,_

_Of a sad farewell made pretty._

_Though tell me not the reason why,_

_You come to me to say goodbye._

_A kiss to seal the deal,_

_But why leave when you know I'm here?_

_Absence makes the heart grow fonder,_

_But abandonment risks forget_

_Though no tangible line is border_

_Forgetting dulls regret._

_Years pose no repose_

_To a broken heart far from repair_

_And here the descent begins_

_Subtle yet powerful, finding Love is a chore_

_And the choice of forget is no more._

_Remembering brings tears,_

_Yet, now `tis the only abode remaining._

_In the world of confusion and fears_

_Sanity remains only within."_

I felt something cold and acidic pull my heart, dragging it down to a salty pool of tears and despair… a place I felt was so familiar to me… yet why couldn't I remember it? I mean surely a place of such pain and sadness would leave a mark… right?

I heard the door behind me open, its tell-tale squeak signaling the entrance of…

"Jamie, have you finished your food, yet?"

Nurse Beatrice. Who else to expect?

_Jack, of course!_

'_Oh, hush.'_ I scolded them, though there was no malice in my thoughts.

"Yes, Nurse Beatrice." I said, smiling at her before ducking back down to continue analyzing the poem.

"What's that?" she asked, making small talk as she kept my plates.

"Just something I came up with…" I said, not really paying attention to our conversation.

"Is it the sequel to your first book?" she asked excitedly. I whipped my head around, my face holding a smile reserved for discussing my favorite things… in this case my book.

"Nope… but I'm halfway!" I said, mirroring her excited tone. My smile became a fond one, reserved only for Nurse Beatrice. She's a kind nurse, the only one who ever bothered to ask me about my hobbies, and who took it upon herself to discuss it with me whenever she came around.

"Can I see?" she asked, her eyes alight. I hesitated, though I quickly got over it. Nurse Beatrice was kind; she wasn't judgmental, was she?

I smiled, "Sure." I handed over the poem.

I saw her eyes read through the words, her excitement dimming but not disappearing, proving that she was reading it, but not just skimming the writing. She smiled when she finished.

"How?" she looked up, her smile was still on her face, but there was a questioning look in her eyes. I sighed. Nurse Beatrice was a nice nurse and all, but I haven't trusted her with my… _problem_ yet. And I doubt I'll be able to. I mean, look at it from _not_ my point of view: If the writings of an author were claimed to have come from "voices" in his head, wouldn't it be dubbed as… _unorthodox_? And that's to say the least… the words _insane, crazy, mad_ swirled around my head.

Before I knew it, Nurse Beatrice was waving her hand at my face: "Hello? Earth to Jamie?" she said, her face and tone concerned. I blinked.

"Oh, sorry, Nurse Beatrice," I apologized, "Ummm... just now, before you came in to collect my dishes. 'Free-writing' is the term right?" I said, nonchalantly, yet with just the hint of pride to make the kind nurse see I wasn't belittling my talents.

The nurse nodded, understanding dawning on her features, though whether I gave a half-truth and she noticed that or she bought the lie completely and was in awe was unclear. She stood up with my tray and said goodbye. She closed the door, her smile still lingering in my thoughts.

_Poor girl, you didn't tell her about us, did you?_

I sighed.

'_Nope…'_

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Hi guys! The next Chapter's gonna come up soon! :D R&R please! **SUPER SORRY FOR THE LATE SEQUEL!**

**PS: I would like to thank Vani Jane who has been a real help. i cant thank you enough. Sorry if i only posted this now, but I learned to treasure each review.. yours especially. Can't thank you enough! :D  
**


	2. Muse

**Chapter 2: Muse**

**Jamie's POV**

The days passed by and I still don't have a clue on what to add next to my sequel. My first book, _Seeing Through_, was finished nearly four months ago. I started on the sequel, _Impotence_, two months ago. Basically, the story revolves around the efforts of Esther Marie, the daughter of a wealthy aristocrat, and her ability to see "what others can't". I know, it sounds like ghosts, right? But it's not just limited to that, she can see ghosts, angels, demons, _hearts _even. The first book starts off with her seeing the first victim of what will later be known as the Heartless Spree, because of the killer's gruesome method of murder… that and he takes their hearts. The first book focuses on Esther's attempts to warn and protect the sixty victims of the antagonist, who remains unnamed throughout the book, and her apparent discovery of her position as the last victim, the sixtieth victim, the "Usherette of Darkness".

My spine tingles whenever I think about it. I have the energy, but I have no inspiration! Ugh, I feel so useless; my Muse dried up the moment I put the last period in place. I need another!

I lay back down on my bed, waiting for four-thirty to roll around, where for an hour the wardens allow the inmates—

_The __stable__ inmates_…

Would you shut up? This is my story.

_Well, I wouldn't have to interrupt if you'd be telling it right._

—Fine, the _stable _inmates to wander out in the grounds. Happy now?

_Yes._

_Anyway_, a few minutes later, the Warden for my prison block, a rather strict man who didn't take kindly to back talk, opened my door. He gestured with his hand that the door is open if I wanted to step outside. I nodded, feigning hesitation and hiding my impatience, and shuffled outside.

I did my best to refrain from just running to the door, as that would probably alarm the Warden behind me and cancel my day-out. I shuffled, bowing my head and letting my bangs hide my face. The door was an arm's length.

_Just open the door already goddamnit!_

I had to agree with the Voice, just open the door already! The Warden, seemingly sensing impatience though I tried to hide it, took his time. I glared at him from beneath my bangs. He guffawed and opened the door. I took a deliberate step outside, making sure to step on the tip of his shiny black shoes… by accident, of course.

He scowled, but before he could tell me off, I was already in front of the library door. I didn't look back.

I immediately set my sights on the Fiction section of the Library. I started to walk, nodding and smiling politely to the librarian, Ms. Claire. She nodded in acknowledgement.

I picked up five random books and read their backs. I let go of two, choosing to keep three. The point where I stopped in _Impotence _included Esther meeting the fifty-ninth victim, Roger Smith, who was entitled "The Portal". From there, I just… blanked.

_I said it before, and I'm saying it again. You're an idiot._

'_Oh, what now?'_

_Look at the covers!_

I complied reluctantly, and then my jaw dropped. _Romance_ novels… I picked up romance novels.

'_A love story…'_

_Wasn't I enough inspiration, Jamie?_

I slapped myself mentally. "I'm an idiot," I muttered.

Why didn't I just draw inspiration from my spat with Jack? I asked myself this question over and over while I went to the librarian to have the books I chose recorded and ready for borrowing.

_But you know the answer to that, Jamie. _It said, adapting an almost sad tone.

I sighed mentally, of course I did. _'But can you say it for me?'_

_Why do _I_ have to say it?_

_`Cause you brought it up in the first place.'_

_Fine: You were afraid… afraid of what? _

I smiled a little at its rhetorical question.

_Repercussions; consequences of you picking at a wound that had only begun to heal, or, if you ask me, hasn't even _started_ to heal. You're afraid of drawing inspiration from an event that got you locked up in this shithole in the first place._

'_Enough.' _I thought. It's not Jack's fault I wound up in Saint Dymphna's. Hell, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know where I am at the moment.

_Probably at some fancy high school dating cheerleaders and part of the honors…_

I growled; the librarian looked up, I quickly turned the growl into a small cough. "Sorry, a little dusty where I got those."

She raised an eyebrow, but other than that spoke none of the matter. She gave me the books and I left, waving goodbye.

I had five minutes remaining when I came back to the building. The Warden I had was now at the building opposite me. In his place was a strict, but also kind woman with shoulder length auburn hair.

"Enjoy the library, Jamie?" she asked. I nodded, and then gave a small smile. She led me back to my room and locked the door. I dumped the books on my bed and then picked one up randomly.

"The Fault in Our Stars… John Green," I muttered. I put it down and cleaned my bed; I piled the books in a neat pile on my desk, folded the blankets and set my pillow up. Then I leaned against the wall and began to read.

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**Hi guys! Favor: please Read&Review... i'm SORRY, I'M GETTING PARANOID THAT NO ONE'S READING MY FANFICS... Sowy.. :/ **


	3. Of Flashbacks and Memories

**Chapter 3: Of Flashbacks and Memories**

**Jack's POV**

_I winced as North applied the antidote to the skull-shaped scar. It's the full moon already, and the antidote was ready just as the Guardians began to assemble in the Globe Room. _

_I was first; coming through a snow globe portal just as North finished applying the antidote to his scar. I was just in time to hear a deep, unearthly screech ring through the room, like the earth itself was wailing in protest. The scar vanished, and the telltale signs of it; drained strength, glassy eyes, pale skin (well in my case, purplish hue, like a bruise) disappeared in a flash of light._

"_Ah," Santa Claus sighed; cracking his neck, "Much better! Jack, ready for antidote?"_

_I nodded, leaning heavily on my staff as North began to apply the antidote, a murky green substance that glowed, like the moonlight itself was giving it its healing abilities, on me._

_I winced as the skin bubbled. The skull opened its mouth and tendrils of darkness began to battle the white glow that seeped from where North applied the drops of the antidote._

"_Wha—what's happening?" I asked, fear lacing my tone._

"_I… I don't know…" North said, his brow furrowed in confusion. The black tendrils continued to battle the white glow, but, to my relief, the white glow slowly overpowered the tendrils as the skull slowly evaporated to nothingness, leaving the skin bare._

"_What the Moon…?" I began. When a knock to the window interrupted my thoughts, I opened the window and Sandy came floating in._

_The Guardian of Dreams floated through the window atop his cloud of golden dream sand. But his landing however, was not graceful… if you call collapsing on the floor in an exhausted heap graceful. The scar, which pulsed like a dark scab on his left palm, glowed darker. North rushed to Sandy's side and applied the luminescent drops._

_Toothiana was next; coming through a snow globe portal that appeared just behind the Guardian of Joy, she didn't look too good, her feathers were dull, lacking their rainbow-like iridescence, and her face was pale. Her purple eyes were glassy and out-of-focus as she trudged to a chair nearby. By the time North was done with Sandy, Tooth's scar began to glow dark._

"_I'm coming!" North bellowed, quite unnecessarily. Tooth winced as the dark tendrils began to make its way up her arm. _

_North came over already preparing the concoction for Tooth when a hole appeared beside me. But I didn't see a Bunny._

"_North!" I called, North was already applying the antidote, "Gimme some here!" He nodded and tossed me the container, which I caught. _

_The Guardian of Hope lay near the mouth of the tunnel, his breathing labored. I could see the tendrils creeping up his fur, draining them of color._

_I applied the antidote on Bunny's right paw, where the scar lay. Immediately, the tendrils stopped spreading, their progress halted by the antidote which was now sizzling over the scar like acid._

_Bunny roared in pain as the antidote worked its magic, abolishing any remnant of the darkness and wiping clean the scar that marred Bunny's pads._

* * *

I took a deep breath; the chilly night air, brought about by yours truly, surrounded the whole of Burgess as I perched myself on the tree beside the pond. The snowflakes that fluttered to the ground coated the landscape with a fine layer of snow and frost. I looked at the silent landscape, and my gaze slowly drifted to the house near my deathbed.

"Jamie…" I said, my voice… his _name_… lost in the wind. Two nights remain before Christmas, and the not-so-quaint town was already bustling even before Jack decided to reward their night with a chilly, but not overly so, night to get them huddling in their blankets.

I heard the wind whistle its tuneless melody in my ears as it delivered the snow and frost throughout the other parts of the world. As I listened, my thoughts reflected on how long it has been seen I last saw the boy.

_Fourteen years…_

I groaned. That's right; two years after the defeat of Pitch Black I took to seeing Jamie again. I know the other Guardians wouldn't approve of this _favoritism_ attitude I've developed for the boy, but he was my first believer! I couldn't put enough emphasis on that.

I sighed.

But then a year after that, a new darkness came to threaten the children of the world. It started off slow at first; a small group of children rebelling more often, children losing belief in hope and peace. We didn't acknowledge the threat as much before, the world was changing as the humans and their _technology "_improved" the years.

Then it got worse; all over the world, children began losing faith in goodness, and eventually us, and started to fight. Something was wrong… _very_ wrong.

I closed my eyes as I remembered what happened… the reason I left Jamie with that painful goodbye that night:

* * *

"_Where's Bunny?" I yelled over the roar of the wind. Santa's sleigh was high in the clouds, obscured from the eyes of children should they see and wonder what Santa's sleigh was doing flying high in the night sky during the humid months of summer. _

"_Bunny will meet us where darkness is!" North bellowed back. Tooth sat beside me on the sleigh, holding on for dear life, but her eyes shined with emotion: anger, excitement, anxiety, and I could see a bit of fear in there, too. But determination shone above all the rest._

_We were heading to the place where the darkness was at its largest; the South Pole. When North briefed us while we were in the Globe Room, I did my best to not laugh at the irony that was so obvious. _

_As we neared the threat, the black void dotted with stars that was the night sky gave was to an endless plain of roiling clouds. Lightning veined through churning mass and illuminated the frozen landscape with flashes of light. _

_I could see it now; the darkness all swirled from a single form that stood in its eye. The figure which looked like a woman, waved her hands about, like she was conducting an invisible orchestra._

_One glance was all it took, and suddenly, the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. Electricity charged the atmosphere surrounding the sleigh as I yelled, "EVERYBODY, OFF! NOW!" _

_I pushed Tooth off her side as North cut the reindeer off. He jumped just as the sleigh was struck with purple lightning._

_I summoned the Wind to catch North as he fell, slowing his landing to soft 'umph'. _

_We were a few feet from the eye, where the woman stood, conducting her orchestra. North stood, hands on his twin swords. "You!" he yelled._

_The woman did not falter in her rhythm, but she raised her head. Tooth and I gasped._

* * *

"Oei, Frostbite!" a familiar Australian accent broke the reflective silence. I sighed. Both glad and disappointed that I was yanked back to reality.

"Hey, Bunny," I said, said Australian pooka was leaning on the trunk of the tree where I sat. I floated down, my feet touching the ground sending small flurries of snow. I smiled a small smile.

"Show-pony…" Bunny muttered under his breath. I laughed.

"Can't be helped." I shrugged, nonchalantly.

"Why are ya here?" He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his tone.

"What do you mean?"

"Ya do realize Jamie doesn't live here anymore, right?"

I didn't answer the question. I already knew that though the Bennett household remained, Jamie was gone. Although, _where_ he had gone was a different matter entirely. I watched as the lights slowly went out one by one in the house, until finally only the master's bedroom, where Jamie's now _almost_ old parents sleep in, was left with the light on. A few minutes later, however, that, too, went out.

Bunny was silent; he watched the lights go out one by one, but I saw his gaze linger on Sophie's bedroom. Sophie, now a teenager, attended the same high school Jamie used to go to.

I felt my heart jerk at the thought. _Jamie's gone._

It's a fact that I'm used to… or at least my brain is used to; the night I said goodbye to Jamie, the night where Jamie confessed his feelings… the night where I left him to cry himself to sleep… did something to me. At the time, even now, my feelings toward the boy remain mutual. I love him, there's no denying.

_So why did I leave him? Why did I smile when he accepted that we were not supposed to be together?_

Something within me broke that day; it wasn't my heart. At least, I didn't; think it was… whatever broke inside me left me numb, empty. Like a part of me was just… _gone_.

I remember the time I asked Sophie where Jamie went. It was a common thought, though; the fact that it was a common thought did not surprise me. That day… her _answer_… was something that I won't easily forget:

* * *

"_Jamie's gone, Jack." Sophie shouted, her eyes brimming with tears and her face contorted into something akin to rage. It was the beginning of winter, Jack's element. Sophie was in her pre-teens, her blonde hair half-wet from when Jack tapped her window while she was blow-drying her hair. She was wearing a mint green shirt and gray sweatpants, her eyes glaring accusingly at me. _

"_Whaddya mean 'gone'? And why are you angry at me?" I asked, my eyes wide with worry,_

"_It's _your_ fault he's gone!" she shouted, louder than before._

"_How is it my fault?" I asked, keeping my voice level, yet there's no mistaking the anger and panic that laced my tone._

"_You made him crazy! You broke his heart and when he was sure you were never gonna come back, it broke his mind, too!" she screamed. _

_All was silent; the wind I'd conjured up to spread the early snow was quiet. The streets were devoid of the bustling cars… probably because it was a Sunday. A perfect setting for the perfect heartbreaking news._

_Sophie sobbed, then she ran back to the house, her blonde hair trailing behind her as she slammed the door. I winced when I heard the door lock and the windows slam shut._

"**What have I done?" **


	4. Deeds of Two

**Hi guys! Here's Chapter 4 on the Sequel for PLEASE COME BACK: _Solitude Forgotten... _:)**

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**Chapter 4: Deeds of Two**

**Jamie's POV**

'_And as I watched him, his fair hair shockingly white in the moonlight, I knew exactly what he asked of me. The night was silent; the wind that howled just a few moments ago was silent. Everything around us was still, as if holding its breath in anticipation to what I would do. I leaned forward, stray strands of my ebony hair framed my forehead, but I didn't disturb it. Our foreheads met. Somewhere, an owl hooted, but I paid no attention. His eyes, so shockingly blue like the untainted azure of a cloudless sky, stared into my own. His breath ghosted across my lips, his tongue darted out to lick his lips, intentional or unintentional… I don't know, all I know that it's tempting me to claim it. We look at each other, our eyes seeming analyzing the soul of the person standing in front of us. A shift of his face and our lips—'_

"Jamie! Dinner!" Nurse Beatrice sounded from outside the door. I resisted the urge to growl. Now that I had a Muse, if not a plot twist that will allow me to at least manipulate the story in a new variety of ways, I found it difficult to attend to my other responsibilities in the asylum… such as meals and hygiene.

_Yuck. _

'_Don't admonish me,' _I snapped, _'It was you who got me caught up in the love business.'_

The Voice was silent, and I couldn't help but smirk a little. Nurse Beatrice set up the table and I was left to help her get dinner, fried chicken and mushroom soup, from the tray and to the table. The aroma made my mouth water, and a growling in my stomach reminded me of my lack of a proper lunch that day.

The Nurse chuckled, "Hungry, dear? Though, I suppose, since you ate so little."

She rolled the tray outside but said over her shoulder, "Finish your food, Jamie! Or you're gonna turn into a matchstick!"

I choked on the soup I swallowed. Where did that come from? The door was already closed when I cleared my throat of the offending delicacy. She meant nothing of it, which was true. But I couldn't help but glance at myself in the mirror at the foot of my bed:

"Holy crap," I muttered. The boy, or man… whatever you want to call it—

_You'll always be a boy to me, Jamie, _The Voice cooed.

'_Would you shut up?' _I growled back. I found that talking to it like it was another human being, not just a figment of my imagination, was a more effective solution to it giving in to my suggestions, or demands in this case.

The man staring back at me was as thin as… well, not a matchstick. But close. His face was still full, brown eyes the color of dark chocolate still twinkled, albeit dulled, underneath a mane of shaggy, but not unkempt, brown hair. His arms were thin, lacking the traces of lean muscle that came from weeks at the gym.

"Maybe I do need to take a break," I muttered to myself as I closed my eyes and prayed.

* * *

**Jack's POV**

I dimly acknowledged the Pooka's voice as he invited me over to the Warren. It was a common occurrence now, Jamie's disappearance left me lonely and pining for the friendship and, though I would never admit it to anyone, love, of my first believer.

Bunny understood, albeit to a lower scale, my need for closure with the boy. When the world's population of children stopped believing in the Guardians, and Bunny was reduced to his disbelieved state as a rabbit, it was Jamie who helped start the chain of belief that empowered us to battle and defeat Pitch Black. Jamie held a spot in Bunny's heart, and Bunny understood why I needed to talk with him.

"Oy, Frostbite! Did ya hear what I just said?" Bunny waved a paw in my face, once again wrenching me from my thoughts and into the cold winter's night whose winds were silent. I immediately summoned the Wind once more, telling it to spread a light dusting of snow, not _too_ light, not too heavy, to the places where they are needed. It howled once, then surrounded Jack in a quick flurry of ice and frost, before spreading out to the continents.

"What?" I said, dumbly. Aster rolled his eyes.

"I said: What're ya gonna do now, Jackie?" He said, repeating the statement in a slow manner, as if he was talking to dim-witted human child. I chuckled at the comparison, but frowned at the question. I let frost gather in my hands and spread to the trees around us as I contemplated the question.

The Wind is omnipresent. You can't see it, but you can feel it. And though there are times you can't feel its caress, it's there, but unmoving… just waiting for someone to move with it or against it.

And now, as I sit with Bunny, the Wind was wafting silently around the dead trees. Their trunks glistening with frost patterns as the moonlight reflected off of it, giving their make-shift winter glen a sort of effervescent glow. They seemed to whisper the answer to me as I reflected on my indecision.

'_**Find him.'**_

* * *

**Jamie's POV**

It's been… three weeks since I made that comment about needing a break. Have I done it?

No.

Do I have the intention of doing it?

No.

I'm not in a tight schedule or anything, in fact, I have all the time in the world, but I just can't stop writing! The soft rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard never fails to lull me into an almost addictive feel, the feel of words being printed on paper, creating another _universe _where everything is subject to your delivery and interpretations. Words mean everything. Words can _change_ everything.

I suppose I should thank my mother for that. Originally, the Asylum refused any mode of gadgetry, as it could be used for self-harm or some blah-blah like that. However, for once in my "sick" state, my mother vouched for me. She even went as far as writing a letter to the Head of the Asylum that I am not capable of self-harm, and that the sole purpose of my laptop is for writing.

They consented. And as far as I know, I'm the only person here with a gadget. And I'm not sure that's a good thing… the Wardens realized this too, so they keep my laptop under lock and key once they announce it's time for bed to prevent anyone from stealing it.

But right now, at nine in the morning as I finished my breakfast and morning practices (I'm the only inmate with a toilet and sink, perks of being my mother's son), I was filled with the need to _do something different_.

I sighed, I knew this feeling; a feeling I get that starts from behind my eyes, almost like a thin, but incredibly taut thread, that prevents me from concentrating. But when I push past that it goes to my chest. Though the pain does not go past the point of discomfort, it's still a nuisance when I expect my time writing to be a long, flowing river of words and imagination.

I sighed once more. I looked at the clock outside my door.

Nine-twenty.

Ten minutes before the siren sounds that tell us we have twenty minutes to use the shower. I dropped to my knees, and proceeded to do as much push-ups I can in five minutes, which turned out to only be fifty as I was immediately forced to take a break.

'_I must be more out-of-shape than I thought.'_

The Voice snorted._ You think? _

'_Shut up.'_


	5. Finding Jamie

**Chapter 5: Finding Jamie **

**Jack's POV**

It took a lot of investigating, mainly from Sophie (which was only achieved through Bunny), but we were able to find out where Jamie was taken.

Saint Dymphna's Asylum.

"Asylum? What's that?" I asked Bunny while we were looking on what the mortals called the  
"internet". Jamie taught me how to search using a "computer", a very complex machine, the location of buildings and structures around the world. It was tiring, though we were only sitting down, or in my case, floating, inside the library. But it was worth it.

Remembering the times I spent with Jamie sent another wave of guilt agony as I recalled Sophie's words.

"It's a place where the put the crazy drongos," Bunny said, bluntly. Bunny knew that if he sugar-coated the explanation, I would only mull it over and try to understand it… but it didn't make the piercing guilt and duller.

I shook my head and searched on the "website" called "Google" the asylum. It was four days after Bunny "investigated" Sophie, and now we were in the Burgess Library, in the farthest corner of the room. The ceiling fans whirred overhead and we were surrounded by stacks of uncategorized books, to refrain from attracting unwanted attention on the fact that a computer is searching up mental hospitals all by itself.

"There it is!" I exclaimed, undaunted by the "Please observe silence" rule of the library.

Bunny, being the six-foot tall Pooka he was, noticed a few of the children accompanying their parents turning heads. One child even stood up and walked over to the aisle next to them, thinking that was where the sound came from.

"Frostbite, we gotta go," Bunny hissed in my ear.

I nodded. I jotted the address in my palm with a "ballpen" and immediately shut the computer. The humans in the library shivered as a cold wind blew through the door. And just as the child realized that the sound originated from the aisle opposite, we were gone.

The address took me to a small village in Missouri; the asylum itself was located near the outskirts. It was near enough so that supplies from the nearby village can be delivered easily but far enough to ensure isolation from the majority of the population. The landscape was mostly made of grass and shrubbery. Gnarled trees that have lost their leaves to the coming winter dotted the landscape. I breathed in the crisp, autumn air.

The structure itself towered over the small village. It had almost a church-like quality to it: a rectangular structure lined with windows that were made of old bricks was lined with buttresses that connected to several towers. The entrance was a simple glass door, yet a sloping roof lined with shutters tinged with yellow ochre spread over the door, shielding it from the elements, like a bird's wing protecting its young.

I asked the Wind to take me over to one of the towers. It wasn't too high; yet it was high enough to allow an individual access to a view that spanned for miles, where the slightest movement can be detected with the set of binoculars that was conveniently hanging on the peg behind the door.

I was deposited in the west tower lining the front of the asylum. Three other towers were stationed on the remaining corners of the facility. I walked the air, or "sky-walked" as Jamie used to call it, lining the buttress to an open window above the shuttered roof. I breezed inside.

Numerous employees typing in computers, others talking on telephones or "mobile phones" like ones Jamie used to have, greeted my eyes. The office was modest in size, no one was cramped, yet some had to move to make room for bustling workers with paper to deposit to the other sections of the room. A glass window lined the wall parallel to me, and outside, bustling workers wearing white uniforms, some leading people, others not, walked by, oblivious to my presence. I smiled bitterly.

A section of the glass opened as an employee walked inside. I gasped. The glass slid back in again, taking its place among the—what I realized were— numerous panes of glass that lined the wall. I waited for another person to walk outside before I flew over his head and through the door.

I groaned. The place was _huge_. The roof outside belittled the size of the place. I was on a raised platform that hugged the sides of the rectangular-shaped infrastructure. I was on the ground floor; I noticed the front door across the yawning void as it opened to let in bright sunlight only to be muted as the glass door closed again. Four corridors that branched out to more cells, offices or stairs were located in the four corners of the building. The ceiling was a cathedral, and the void below was dotted with lights as the cells grew darker and darker.

_There must be a basement level, too. _ I groaned to myself.

_There must be something I could do… Think Jack, think!_

.

.

.

.

_Wait a minute…_

"Wind!" I shouted. I was undaunted by the multitude of people here. However, I chuckled (who knew I had a sadistic sense of humor?) when the people stopped all at once and glanced around nervously for the source of the sudden burst of wind that originated from who-knows-where.

"Spread out! We're looking for a man in his early-twenties, brown hair, brown eyes," I spoke like a commander addressing to his army, though mirth laced my voice at the idea of me and the wind flying through this whole building looking for _one _boy.

_He's a man, now, though. _I thought in a bitter tone.

I shook my head. Now was not the time for self-pity.

"Ready!" I yelled. I and the Wind positioned ourselves in the four corridors of the hall. The corridor entrances on the floors above and the floors below were also taken up by the Wind.

"**Go!"**

* * *

**Hi guys! How am i doing? R&R! :))**

******PS: Saint Dymphna is real saint. She's the saint of the mentally ill. And I am not aware ofa Saint Dymphna's Asylum in Missouri... if there is.. then, WOW. ^.^**


	6. Homecoming

**Chapter 6: Homecoming**

**Jamie's POV**

It was around three in the afternoon when the Voice started whispering:

I was in my room; it's been two weeks since I first started my exercise routine every morning before I take a shower. And, to my satisfaction, I've started to re-develop the defined muscles of my chest, abdomen and arms. However, I never forgot about the book. Never did I forget about the book.

"_They were coming: the darkness seeped through the crevice of the door as the man stood, unmoving, outside. His silhouette cast a dark pool outside the room as he put his hand on the door. Suddenly, a blinding white light pooled around the edges of his shadow and he was blasted from the door._

_'Esther…' John's voice whispered in her mind. She sobbed. His voice was a salve to the aches and the pain she has endured since he fell at the hands of the man outside._

_ 'Fight, my love, fight…' his voice whispered, urgently, this time more voices joined in his whisper, a cacophony of spectral whispers that pierced through the silence in the room. The man was gone for the moment, along with his horde of dark spirits. But he would return soon._

_Esther put her hand to her ears. 'I can't do it… John! Help me!' she yelled in her mind. _

_The man was back there again. This time the shadows clung to him, giving him more power as he put his hand to the door. But instead of being blasted away, the door itself began to wither as darkness gnawed at the edges. _

_Frightened, Esther withdrew to her mind. _

_'Fight, love…' John whispered, if she tried hard enough, she could feel his caress as if her were right beside her, soothing the pains of today's wound. Then, he would kiss her and they would go to sleep underneath the blanket of stars. _

_'Fight for us, Miss.' a tiny voice whispered. Victim 43; Aaron Hughes, the Child of Fire: The boy, who was only ten years old at the time, was burned in his own backyard. _

_'Yeah, you can take that bastard down!' another voice whispered, louder than the others. Victim 39; Freddy Drew, Hand of Lightning: He was attending the bachelor party of Esther's good friend, Joseph Rey, when he was lured to the roof and was killed via electrocution._

_'We will fight with you.' A solemn voice whispered. Victim 24; Christine Maria, Lady of the Sea: she was attending the beach volleyball tournament of her brother when she was knocked out behind the stands and was drowned in the girls' toilet nearby. Her body was then taken by boat and was dumped in the ocean._

_More whispers pledged their assistance and powers to Esther. Esther slowly withdrew from her mind as the spirits started to surround her. Their piercing cacophony all intermingling to form one solid, powerful, oath:_

_'We will fight.'"_

_._

_._

_._

_Jamie…_

I ignored it. I was so close! The climax is but a few paragraphs away as I continued to type furiously on the document.

_Jamie… Jamie… Jamie…_

I froze, my hand hovering above the space bar. There is only one Voice. Since I was put in the asylum the voices formed together to form one slightly more solid Voice. Don't ask me how, I don't know myself. But, like all the other weirdness that was me, I took it in stride.

_Jamie… Jamie… Jamie… Jamie… Jamie…_

A slight breeze wafted in from outside. I shivered. The wind was cold, like winter itself came to visit the asylum's hall.

_Jamie!_

I jumped. That wasn't a figment of my imagination. It was _real_. I could feel it. It had a more solid… texture? No, that's not the word; form? Can be… oh, whatever. But where did it come from? I glanced around the room, checking for any kind of disturbance; under my bed, the small bathroom, under my desk… nothing.

I looked outside the small window on my door. There was nothing outside of any interest that could be the source of the exclamation. The dull ochre of the walls seemed to mock me of my limited view as I tried look past the bars of my window for the source of the whispering.

"It was nothing." I sighed to myself. This _could be _a higher stage of my "mental illness". Though, I highly doubt that. Still, the fact remained at the back of my mind like a splinter that you can't get rid of. Small, yet it gets to your attention if you're not doing anything to take your mind off it.

A small pang of fear entered my mind. But I quickly dismissed it. I'm in a _mental asylum _for Pete's sake. There's no safer place for nutjobs like me on Earth. I sighed sadly at the thought. Though I'm bright in my own way, the Voice remains a hindrance to my writing career. Who would want to read the works of a nutjob?

I was about to turn my back on the window when a hand clamped on my mouth.

* * *

**Jack's POV**

I was already at the fourth level of the basement section when the one of the Wind scouts howled. I froze, then without a second thought, a dashed over to the nearest staircase and began to fly.

I began to focus my thoughts on that specific gust, asking it to take a more corporeal form and give me eyes and ears. The Wind obeyed, of course. And as I was about to enter the floor, I saw Jamie.

_'Oh, Jamie…' _I thought, eyes tearing up. I don't know whether it's from sadness or relief, or both. Either way, I found what I came for;

He was tall, taller than me by an inch or so. His brown hair was messy, but not unkempt. His skin was tan, but not overly so. He still retained the little bit paleness that accompanied him when he was a child. Freckles dotted his defined facial features, and muscular arms held hands that typed furiously on his "laptop". I expected his eyes to be haunted; the eyes of a soldier that has seen too much death, or at least the eyes of someone who's felt so much in so little time, and has suffered the consequences for it. A dead look. Empty eyes.

Yet, I didn't see anything like that with him. His eyes were alive, like they held no negativity whatsoever. However, I could see darkness that wasn't there before. A sadness that every once in a while misted his eyes over. But he only typed harder whenever his eyes misted.

My heart clenched. I closed the connection with the scout. I repeated his name over and over again as I flew around the floor and corridors, trying to find his room.

There!

The Wind is gone. But I saw the back of Jamie's head, his messy halo of chocolate hair, through the bars of the door. His head was bowed, like he had given up. Another painful clench.

He was shifting and Jack was immediately by the door. I saw Jamie was moving away from the door.

NO!

I immediately put my arm through the bars and put it over his mouth.

* * *

**SORRY FOR SHORT CHAPTER, A CLIFFHANGER IS IN ORDER! :D**

**Note: I shall abandon this story for a while to work on others… sorry! I feel trapped when I focus ALL my powers in one fanfic... FORGIVE ME! *runs away from angry mob***


	7. An Unexpected Shift

**I JUST WANNA SHOUT OUT TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN WAITING LONG FOR INSPIRATION TO STRIKE THIS AUTHOR AND POST ANOTHER CHAPTER, THANK YOU FOR WAITING (if there are any, sorry for the depressing comment.. ;( anyways, without further adieu, CHAPTER 7! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7: An Unexpected Shift**

****Jamie's POV****

The first thing that came to my senses was the sharp smell of mint and freshly fallen snow. The hand was pale and firm, I could feel the pent-up tension in that simple touch. I forced my breathing to slow as I slowly, but deliberately, removed the hand closed around my mouth. I continued to maintain the steady breathing pattern—_breathe in… breathe out… _—as I let go of Jack's slightly trembling appendage.

"Hello, Jack." I said, coolly… calmly. I thought I sounded too calm for my beating heart and racing thoughts. For the first few weeks of my stay here in this— fine, I'll say it: _shithole_ — in this shithole, I would hope and dream how Jack would come and get me out of here, how he would help me prove to myself that I am _not_ crazy. Sometimes, I would imagine Jack would come in when the guards would open my door to let me out, and then he would surprise me outside and fly me out of here. Or he would surprise me one day in my room.

Ah, now there was an idea: If I ever pondered about Jack waiting for me in my room, how would I react? Would I be angry and shut him out, or would I act like: _Oh, Jack, I knew you would come!_

Crap, I still cringe at the idea of me acting like such a girl.

But I felt none of these things. In fact, I don't feel anything at all. I feel nothing. I'm numb. The calmness I'm showing to the Guardian of Fun is something I've developed over my years here. When I'm not indulging in my passion for writing or whining about my lack of a muse, I'm calm… or at least, I am on the outside. My mind is a different story.

"Can't you come in? I can't really open the door for you." I said, pointing to the bolted door and the bars on the window. Jack's hand was still in mid-air, still clutching the air where my hand currently held his. The thoughts and emotion I read through his touch was unnerving. I could still feel the thick of it in the palm of my hand, like I could really _feel_ Jack's drive and his amazement at finding me here when I touched him. God, I sound so cliché.

He nodded, withdrawing his arm from the barred window and stepped back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _He's composing himself._ I realized. Then he stepped through the door.

Now, I knew that if I was younger, I would be standing here, jaw agape like a guppy. But now, I only raised an eyebrow at Jack's new power. The door behind him shone white as ice and frost encased it, then it shattered.

My eyes widened. I turned to look at Jack, my eyes probably holding an accusing glare, when he snapped his fingers. The shards that were scattered on the floor rose and flew around the hole where the metal door once stood. They swirled, and then they flew into place, latching onto the air like some bizarre jigsaw puzzle. Once they were in place, the Guardian raised his palm. Another flash of light, and the cracks and ridges were gone, leaving the door whole, if not totally encased in ice. Jack waved his hand and the ice tore itself from the door and flew to his outstretched palm, where compressed to form a small ball.

"Huh" I said, my voice sounded unimpressed, concealing the excitement that began to flow through my veins at Jack's new abilities. Maybe he really did come to bust me out.

'_Stop, he's only here to check up on you. Don't get your hopes up.' _I scolded myself. I sighed.

Jack was still staring at me; his eyes were going over my face, my body, heck, I'm even sure he's analyzing my _clothes_.

"What's wrong, Jack? Don't you recognize _me_ anymore?" I tried to keep the bitter note out of my voice. Thankfully, my statement betrayed no emotion, even though my heart was beginning to sizzle in the anger and betrayal. Crap, where did all this come from? I wish I was still feeling numb.

He flinched. I tilted my head sideways, innocently. Though, in my mind I was cheering at his discomfort. When did _I_ become the sadist?

"Jamie…" He whispered.

I stiffened, and I prayed the winter spirit didn't notice. I immediately motioned for him to sit on the bed; I walked over and _calmly_ straightened the sheets and fluffed the pillows (as if I'm going to be the ones using them). Jack looked around the small room, taking in the cream walls that were slightly cracking, the window above the desk where my laptop sat, where the sequel within remained, awaiting completion. I could tell he was wondering about the lack of personal stuff. I snorted, _It's an asylum what did you expect?_

I patted the bed; Jack paused in his circles and sat on the bed, almost obediently. I folded the blankets slowly, all the while deliberately following the creases from the fabric slowly smoothen out. The Guardian continued his staring; I don't know if I should be flattered or annoyed.

A few, _long_ minutes of silence; I put down the perfectly folded blanket and sat down on the desk chair. Jack's gaze followed my movement.

"What do you want, Jack Frost?" I asked, deliberately emphasizing his full name. Jack's eyes widened. Why wouldn't it? I never used his full name since the day I first saw him as a spirit.

"Jamie, I—I've come to take you home." He said, his voice was hesitant, unsure. I laughed, loud and harsh.

"But Jack," I said, allowing some anger to seep into my voice. "I _am _home."

* * *

****Jack's POV****

I am in _deep _shit.

I _really _expected Jamie to freak out and turn around. I _really _expected him to be shocked but smile and feel his want to hug me, and then I would burst through the door, hug him, and get him out of this place.

I did not expect the cold shoulder.

Well, not _exactly_ the cold shoulder… but he sounded calm, too calm. What happened to the boy whose emotions were out on his face like an open book? What happened to the boy whose eyes were the _literal_ windows to his soul; his pure, innocent soul?

But as I stared into his eyes, those all too calm, blank eyes, I thought I could literally hear him scream in my ear: _You tainted it._

I immediately scolded myself, that's not possible, right?

"Can't you come in? I can't really open the door for you." The man in front of me said, but it sounded muffled. I nodded, not really listening, only obeying. I was still too shocked, to _amazed_, at what happened to the young boy I left all those years ago.

_The young boy you left with a broken heart and a shattered mind._

I tried to calm myself down, taking a deep breath. I didn't want another fail at phasing like that time with the pile of wood. I stepped through.

Immediately, the cold feeling of air pushed through me and I suppressed a whimper as I stepped inside Jamie's _cell_. I glanced at his face, expecting an outburst of excitement for the new trick I could do, there was none.

The door shattered behind me.

Jamie's calm expression changed, albeit different from what I wanted; he was shocked, and his eyes pierced daggers at me. I inwardly flinched; I immediately reformed the door and peeled he ice off it, turning it into a little ball on the palm of my hand.

"Huh" was all he said. I couldn't stop staring at him. His face; the strong jaw, the tousled chocolate locks, those eyes that shone with _life_. Although, the darkness remained, and as I continued to study them, they seemed to shrink back, as if Jamie wanted to purposely hide it from me. I gaped, since when did Jamie become so…_ distant _couldn't even describe it. "_Broken"? _Maybe…

I looked at him; the freckles, the tan, the muscled arms, even the clothes on his back; a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants. It felt like seeing a "Before and After" commercial, the drastic changes and all that. Only this time, there's no magic, only heartbreak.

"What's wrong, Jack? Don't you recognize _me_ anymore?" Jamie said. The statement was innocent enough, but I never imagined Jamie ever saying that. It sounded too… _scary. _I flinched.

Jamie seemed surprise by my reaction. He tilted his head sideways, an innocent gesture. Or is it?

"Jamie…" I whispered. I wanted to say everything there and then. Everything; the asylum, Jamie's sadness… it's all too much. I can't believe this is my entire fault.

He flinched, but he tried to cover it up by motioning over to the messy bed. He walked over to it _calmly_, almost robotic. Even strides and collected air replaced the excited shuffles and the energetic bursts that I was usually met with whenever I came to visit. He began to flatten the sheets and fluff the pillow. Notice the lack of –s? I looked around his room—or cell, whatever—and wondered about the bare walls. Usually, Jamie would post his work, or at least the titles of the stuff. Why is it bare?

I heard a muffled pat and I saw Jamie silently asking me to sit. I complied, not wanting to aggravate the collected air that Jamie mustered. I felt so out of place. I'm the Guardian of _Fun_. I'm not used to this quiet, calm crap. That's Sandy's job.

I watched him work with deliberate slowness on the blanket; watched his long, delicate fingers press and fold on the plain fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles. I watched his face; the defined muscles, the tan that was apparent but not overdone, the slight splatter of freckles. I watched his eyes; how they moved slowly and calculatingly, the brown hues were devoid of any passion and energy that I was used to seeing on the boy. I was afraid.

He put down the perfectly folded sheet of fabric on the foot of his bed. I followed him, watching his even steps and robotic motions. It was unnerving to see how distant Jamie had become. He sat down on the chair in front of me, except he didn't sag on the rest like he used to, he sat straight up, his back touching the rest as a place to lean on, not sag on. It saddened me to see how much had changed, as well.

"What do you want, Jack Frost?" he asked, his collected, tenor voice rang through the room. Except it wasn't vibrant and bubbling, it was cold and indifferent. But that wasn't what made my eyes widen. He called me by my full name. He _never_ did that, at least never again after the day he first believed in me. I hesitated.

"Jamie, I—I've come to take you home." I said; my voice was slightly unsure. Suddenly, Jamie laughed. It was cold and harsh. It rang through the silent room.

"But Jack," he said, his voice slowly hardened, revealing the hot anger that has been there all this time, "I am home."

* * *

**Feel free to critique, i promise to be more mature.. O:)**


	8. Reconciliation

**Hi guys! Thanks for waiting! i'm sorry for the late update, i'm currently addicted to making mash-ups and completing a canvas of mine so my attention is divided. but NO MATTER WHAT THIS STORY (and the other one: Leaving Home) WILL BE COMPLETED. SO READ ON! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 8: ****Reconciliation **

Jack and Jamie stared at each other for quite some time. The _tick-tick-tick_ of the clock seemed to magnify the silence of the room as the two stared at each other; calculating, impassive, chocolate orbs met the shocked, hurting look clearly displayed in the azure orbs of the winter Guardian. Jamie said nothing, Jack said nothing. When Jamie last looked at the clock outside it was fifteen minutes past two. _It must've been half an hour since then._ Jamie thought, his eyes not betraying the anxiety and the irritation he's started to feel since Jack sat down on his bed.

Jamie's words rang through Jack's mind as he continued to stare at the not-so-innocent child before him.

_But Jack, I am home._

Jack wanted to hug Jamie then and there. He wanted to sweep him up in the tightest hug he could give and whisper everything he ever wanted to say. But he knew that would not work. Not even by a long shot. Jamie had laid out everything for Jack; his heart, his happiness, and Jack wasted it, if not thrown it away like toys he would forget in the deepest recesses of a child's toy box.

Jack continued to stare at the boy; Jamie met the spirit's gaze with his own calm stare. Jamie's emotions were building, now. The calm façade he had put on ever since the spirit clamped his hand over Jamie's mouth was still in place, but the boy could feel his emotions seeping through tight ball he rolled them up in.

Jack didn't know what to say. He never before planned that Jamie would be this _difficult_. His plan was basically a grab-and-go, maybe toss in a kiss or two.

_Really, Jack? Really?! Do you really think that Jamie would remain that naïve and gullible forever?_

Jack winced and Jamie raised an eyebrow. What was the Guardian thinking?

"Jamie… Please listen… I—"Jack began, but at the same moment, all of Jamie's self-control over his emotion snapped and the impassive stare that he gave Jack turned into such a venomous glare that the white-haired spirit froze mid-sentence and shifted slightly back.

"Jack Frost," Jamie began. His eyes were glaring so hard that Jack was sure two holes popped up in his head somewhere. He winced, but kept staring at Jamie, whose fists were clenched so tight that they were turning white.

Jamie was struggling to regain control. But it was hard. _So _hard. Random flashes of memories popped into his mind fizzled into nonexistence like fireworks in the Fourth of July: Jack's first leaving; the heartbreak, the anguish, the coping; the confession that followed; the feeling of vulnerability and the joy of acceptance. And then the broken promises of love returned and a mended relationship; the heartbreak so devastating it shattered Jamie's mind.

"Why did. You. Come. _Back_." Jamie slowly said. His eyes were burning with anger and unshed tears, but Jamie forced his voice to come out slow and even, but he couldn't help but punctuate his last three words, _especially_ the last one.

"Jamie, please. Let me explain." Jack was starting to rush, now. The unsaid words were slowly forcing their way out of his choked throat and his shock was fading into one of great distress. "The darkness, the chaos, Eris, everything… Jamie, please hear me out."

"But why only now Jack?" the brown-eyed man said, his voice was steady, platonic, once more. But his eyes still held the burning anger, but sadness made its way into the brown windows, and Jack could practically feel the sorrow radiating off Jamie's stiff form.

"I was stupid," Jack said before he thought the words through. "I was stupid, so stupid to not know what I was doing back then, what I was _feeling_ back then… especially for you."

Now, if Jamie was not so engulfed by anger and sorrow, he would be moved by Jack's speech. But now, with the anguish he felt for many years drowning him in a sea of angst, he couldn't feel anything but anger and the wish to _hurt_ Jack, in every possible way.

_Why am I thinking like this?_

Jamie wanted to break the Guardian's spirit; he wanted Jack to feel in his very being the pain, the loneliness he had felt, doubled with that of a broken heart and a lost love. If Jack had felt this before, Jamie wanted the spirit to feel it _again_, twofold. He wanted Jack to feel hope only to have it crushed. He wanted Jack to feel love only to have it lost, then found, then lost again. He wanted Jack to _feel_ everything.

_But I love him._

'_**Bah! Did he love you the same way? He said it himself; he thinks it's wrong for you to love him like that.'**_

_But _I _love _him.

Meanwhile, while Jamie struggled with himself, Jack was sorting out his thoughts on how to tell Jamie everything; never before had Jack been faced with a more serious problem since Pitch and Eris. He knew that words would have no effect on the broken man. And brash actions could make him end up in the gutter.

_But this is a brash situation. Fight fire—or ice— with fire._

Oh, well. Jack never was known as a deep-thinker, especially when it comes to his love life… which was virtually non-existent before he met Jamie.

Jamie was losing it; the memories were too much, the emotions restricted for too long. He was gonna lose it.

"Jamie…" Jack tried again.

_He doesn't love you… He doesn't love you… He doesn't love you… He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_He doesn't love you…_

_**But I love him.**_

"Jack…" Jamie said, his eyes tearing up. The hatred was gone, it's amazing how powerful love can be… and how _totally cliché_ that sounds.

"I. Love. You." Jack said, his eyes—_as blue as the azure sky_—stared right into Jamie's misty ones. Jack was trying his hardest to convey everything he wanted to say into his eyes, and everything he felt for the boy in those three, simple words.

"Please…" Jamie said, his shoulders were shaking, now. The stiff position that he held during the first moments of Jack's visit dissipated, and Jamie now sat, hugging his knees. Sobs racked his frame as the powerful emotions that Jamie had clumped together in a tight ball came flooding out. Normally, Jamie would turn to his pen and paper as a release. He never did like crying; it leaves him with a feeling of vulnerability… and he's had enough of that for a lifetime.

"If you're just—"—_hiccup—_"gonna leave—"—_hiccup—"_again, please don't come—"—_hiccup—"_back… it hurts too much…" Jamie stopped talking; he buried his face in his arms and sobbed quietly, not caring for the presence of someone watching him. '_So much for calm and indifferent…_' he thought, scornfully.

Jack was frozen (well, not literally, but you get the picture). He never expected this much angst to befall the man. Was he that important?

_I think I. love. you._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_So please… don't go._

.

.

.

Jack stood up and walked towards Jamie's sobbing form. He watched him for a few moments and kneeled. Jamie raised his head, his eyes red and puffy from crying, and he stared at the kneeling sprite, tears still falling.

Jack kissed away the tears that threatened to fall. Jamie's eyes widened, and he shifted slightly away from Jack. However, Jack was persistent.

_I am not leaving you again._

He cupped Jamie's face with both his hands and leaned in close. Then he kissed Jamie.

He pulled away.

Jamie stared, shell-shocked at the intimate contact that Jack had portrayed. And as Jack, leaned in, Jamie closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for Jack to kiss him again. But he whispered;

"_I think I love you…"_

Jamie's eyes snapped open as memories of a windy night, cold with the presence of winter, and the feeling of love and sorrow—_vulnerability_— flooded his mind. More tears began to flow, and a choked sob made its way from the boy's throat. Jack kissed away the tears and kissed him on the forehead.

"_So I promise to never go."_

* * *

**Please feel free to read "Please Come Back" if you don't know where i got the 'I think I. love. please… don't go.' part... :) R&R and i promise maturity! :D**


	9. The Other Half of His Heart

**HELLO GUYS! THANK U 4 TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS! I WANT TO SAY THANK U TO ALL THOSE WHO HEEDED MY REQUEST: _CaramelLover, __Lady Minuialwen, jackfrost12, _and _Yuki _AT CHAPTER 2, IF THERE ARE THOSE I FORGOT, IMMA SORRY! WELL, HERE YOU GO! :D**

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**Chapter 9: The Other Half of His Heart**

"_I think I love you…"_

"_So I promise to never go."_

**~-O-~**

Jamie stood out on the front porch; his long, brown hair which he let grow out, yet managed to keep stylish, flew around his slightly tanned face. The long, smooth fingers which have been typing in words for hours on end played on the varnished wood. He stretched his back and cracked his knuckles, sighing with satisfaction at the loud pops of stiff joints. He breathed deeply, enjoying the crisp, mountain air.

"About time you took a break," a smooth, baritone voice sounded from the roof. Jack Frost slid from the shuttered roof and somersaulted a few feet away from the porch. But as Jamie blinked, Jack was gone, leaving behind a flurry of snowflakes.

"For a minute I thought I would have to drag you out."Jack sounded from behind the man. Jamie yelped, and then he covered his mouth and glared playfully at the winter spirit.

"Jack!" his tenor voice rang through the empty house whose door remained opened. Jamie laughed as Jack grinned. "You know how that startles me!"

The winter spirit wrinkled his nose in mock-distaste, "'_startles'_?"

Jamie tossed his head back, laughing. Jack couldn't help but stare at the carefree voice that rang through his ears and warmed his heart.

'_So different from two years ago,' _He thought to himself as he watched Jamie's chocolate locks sway to the breeze.

"Yes, Jack, '_startles_'_; _get used to it." Jamie said, his brown eyes alight and devoid of the hard darkness that haunted them two years ago when Jack found him.

Jack smiled and leaned in. Jamie only had time to stare at those eyes—_as blue as the azure sky_—before Jack's lips pressed onto his own. Jamie smiled into the kiss as he returned it, enjoying the freedom to express his affection for the winter spirit. Jack raised his arms to the man's shoulders as he deepened the kiss. Jamie responded by wrapping his arms around the Guardian's waist and pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together.

Jamie withdrew, gasping for air as he stared down at the Guardian. Jack's eyes were lidded and his mouth was slightly open. His flushed skin mirrored Jamie's own as Jamie gently tugged Jack inside.

* * *

Jamie and Jack lay in bed, basking in the afterglow of their union: Jack lay curled up against Jamie's side; his pale skin reflecting the soft lamplight as he breathed in Jamie's scent, relishing the smell of mountain air, sex and faded musk. Jamie ran his hands through Jack's snow-white locks, absent-mindedly marveling at the smoothness of his lover's hair. Without warning, his mind flashed back to the day Jack came to him and promised himself to him:

**~-O-~**

_Jamie stared at the winter spirit, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Jack would've chuckled at the comical sight had the weight of the words he said not charged the air in a tense silence. The _tick-tick-tick _of the clock seemed to mute. Nothing existed outside the room…nothing existed but them._

"_Jack…" Jamie said once more, his voice was surprisingly clear, devoid of sobs and hiccups. Jamie positively enjoyed the name as it rolled of his tongue, the Guardian, meanwhile, relished in the sound of his name falling off Jamie's lips. He leaned in and claimed the boy's—for Jamie would always be the boy that first believed, first _loved,_ the spirit—mouth. _

_Jamie pulled away. His eyes were clearing now, but Jack could see that they were open; they were once again the windows that they were meant to be. A play of emotions flashed within them like flashes of lightning; relief, guilt, anxiety… but one emotion filled the chocolate windows._

"_Love." Jack whispered. Jamie stared at Jack' his face scrutinizing the spirit whose arms held the boy in a cocoon of cold and warmth._

"_I love you, Jamie Bennett." Jack said, trying to put all his emotions, his feelings, his thoughts into those simple words._

"_I love you, too, Jack Frost." Jamie replied, without hesitation. The anxiety and the guilt had passed, for Jamie had known that all was forgiven, and he forgave Jack, too. _

_Outside the Wind blew, singing its tuneless song to the heavens and to the mortals below. It danced through the trees and through the leaves, for it knows that its companion has found the other half of his heart._

**~-O-~**

Of course, Jamie's departure from the asylum wasn't done in the blink of an eye. Jamie was reluctant to leave the shithouse he called home, and there were people he would miss.

Well, maybe just Nurse Beatrice.

The man leaned back on the bed, resting his head on the headboard as the winter adjusted, so that his head lay on Jamie's chest, listening to the boy's heartbeat.

* * *

Jamie recalled the day he asked Nurse Beatrice when he was able to leave. He recalled the shocked expression, and the sad smile that graced her face as she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Jamie's forehead.

"What makes you think you're ready to leave?" she had asked. The question, at first, seemed hostile. But as Jamie looked further, he saw that woman had no ill intent. Genuine curiosity lit her eyes at the same time sadness laced her tone.

Jamie smiled a sad smile, yet his eyes were alight, not with the flame of excitement or passion that Jamie held for his writing. This one seemed deeper, more encompassing of Jamie's being. The boy seemed to radiate the light from his eyes, the Nurse noticed. And before Jamie spoke, the Nurse already believed him.

"I found what I was looking for."

The Nurse took notice of the tone of finality in the boy's tone, as if that alone held the answers she needed. And it did. A broken heart and a shattered mind had been healed. And she had served her purpose.

She nodded and smiled, albeit sadly, still. She leaned in and whispered, "God Bless you, Jamie." Before she turned and left.

* * *

Jack stared at the boy's face; _He's a million miles away right now_, the spirit thought with a chuckle. Jamie was not brought out from his stupor. Jack chuckled once more as he pulled Jamie down for a kiss.

"What's up?" Jamie asked, his fingers brushing away stray locks of white hair that framed the spirit's forehead.

Jack didn't answer right away, his eyes going over the light stubble that was growing on Jamie's face. Before all of this, Jack would've been disturbed at the fact that Jamie's mortality was once again being shoved in his face. But right now, he felt none of it. He only felt this… the present, and as Jamie continued to stare questioningly at Jack's face, he smiled.

"You know what my favorite saying is?" Jack said, his eyes staring into Jamie's own chocolate orbs.

Jamie buried his head on Jack's head, taking in the scent that is _Jack_. "What?"

"'_I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love'__"_ Jack said. His voice broke on the last part, betraying the passionate emotion that he was trying to _discreetly_ convey.

"Mother Teresa?" Jamie asked, surprised at the somewhat holy quote.

"Something I found on the internet," Jack said, his eyes gazing up into Jamie's own. They were doing it again; they were in their own little world, unaware of anything outside it. "It stuck to me; I'm surprised I still remember it."

Jamie kissed Jack's forehead, smiling when the Guardian hummed contentedly. "You know what _my_ favorite quote is?"

"What's that?" Jack asked, his blue eyes shining with curiosity.

Jamie leaned into Jack's ear, and he whispered. _"__'For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul'"_

Jack noticed the way Jamie's eyes shone, and he couldn't help but enjoy the fact that _he _caused that, _he_ was Jamie's happiness; not his deeds, not the snow, the frost or the winter, but _him_. It made him feel light.

"Judy Garland," Jamie said as he leaned away. Jack followed his movement.

"Touching," Jack said as he leaned in and kissed the boy. Jamie smiled and deepened it, enjoying the feeling of passion and fire course not just through his body, but to his soul, too.

**~-O-~**

"_I think I love you…"_

"_So I promise to never go."_

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_**I love you, so I promise to never go.**_

* * *

_**AND IT IS DONE! :D THANK U FOR THE SUPPORTERS, THE REVIEWS THE FOLLOWS, THE FAVES, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH U HAVE HELPED ME! NOW I WILL WORK ON "LEAVING HOME"... JACK'S POV ON "PLEASE COME BACK"... SOOOOO AU REVOIR! ^.^**_


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